


Jesse

by strikecommanding



Series: tumblr fucking sucks [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-13 17:22:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 21
Words: 22,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16896822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strikecommanding/pseuds/strikecommanding
Summary: An import of all the Jesse McCree pieces I've written on tumblr. Each chapter summary will include the prompt and warnings.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> an old piece i wrote to establish his character
> 
> contains: noncon, alcohol, drugs

Always the charmer, always a little too happy to see you, McCree is the type of person who is difficult to refuse simply because he won’t let you refuse him. More often than not, his friendliness borders on pushiness and just the sight of him is enough to leave you unsettled. He’ll grin at you and approach with a slow, deliberate swagger, not allowing you to go about your business until you give him his hug first. These brief interactions stir a bit of discomfort within you, but you’d be completely off-put if you knew just how much they meant to McCree. They’re the only things holding him over until the day he can finally steal you away and keep you all to himself.

\---

You had gone out for drinks with your co-workers after a particularly grueling mission. It had taken a lot out of you all, but it was nothing that couldn’t be remedied by some bar hopping. All it took was a few drinks for you to loosen up, so much so that you gradually became friendlier with McCree than you’d ever willingly been in the past. Normally he was the one who couldn’t keep his hands off of you, and you would irately tell him off for it. But you were a friendly and touchy drunk, and you ended up clinging to him for the better part of the evening.

McCree liked you like this too, his goofy smile wide as he kept the drinks coming your way. The other agents had long since retired, having left the two of you alone the moment they started to feel like they were third-wheeling. Had you been in a better state of mind, you never would have allowed yourself to end up alone with the cowboy.

You also wouldn’t have accepted any drinks from him, especially when he always seemed to dawdle on his way from the bar back to you. It got to the point that you were too buzzed to fight the metal hand practically pouring alcohol down your throat, or to question the peculiar fizz you thought you saw in it before you obediently swallowed.

Eventually, when McCree excused himself to fill your glass for the umpteenth time that night, the last of your rationality chimed in and convinced you that you should probably head home. You stood up fast enough that the world began spinning around you, making you stumble and catch the corner of a low table to save yourself from a graceless fall. Blinking harshly against the club’s flashing lights, you willed yourself to stand on shaky legs and set out to make your way back to base.

You hadn’t even taken two steps when McCree reappeared at your side with a glass practically overflowing with alcohol. “Where are you headed? Night’s still young.”

“I-I gotta… head’s fuzzy,” you slurred at him, still trying to stagger forward. In a final attempt to excuse yourself, you looked back at him blearily and murmured, “Home.”

McCree’s pearly whites were illuminated by the neon lights that bathed you both, and he abandoned the drink on a nearby table in favor of falling behind you. “Lead the way, sweet pea.”

He was being ironic, clearly, since you could hardly put one foot in front of the other without his absolute guidance. Patiently, he walked you back to base and to your quarters, and you thought that was when he would be taking his leave for the night. Instead, he came in with you, stripping you down to your underwear as he helped you into bed. You rubbed your eyes as you thought about how nice it was of him to help you get comfortable before he finally left.

Except he didn’t leave; instead, he began climbing on top of you as he worked to rid himself of his belt. You looked up to get an eyeful of his predatory expression in the dim lighting of your bedroom. “Look at you, so obedient and sweet,” he murmured adoringly, his hand departing from his pants long enough to caress your cheek. You shivered at the touch. “I like you better like this, sweetheart. Like you better when you’re not fightin’ me.”

When McCree hooked his thumbs in the waistband of your underwear and pulled down, you started to connect the dots in your fuzzy mind. Panic shot through you with a lot less of an impact than you were expecting, considering the situation you now found yourself in. What little remained of your right mind berated you for having carelessly accepted so many of his drinks, and urged you to try to push him off of you. You got as far as pressing your palm against his chest when your arm bonelessly flopped back down to your side. As far as verbally protesting went, you could only manage a soft, incoherent mumble.

A chuckle rumbled deep from McCree’s throat as he stroked down your arm and intertwined his fingers with yours. “’Course, would’ve been no fun if you were completely out of it. I made sure the dose was strong enough just to leave you woozy, not knock you out.”

The thought that he had drugged you, and the ambiguity of his poison of choice, made you whimper.

McCree let out a sharp but slow exhale as he nudged a space for himself between your legs, his expression nearly orgasmic like he was getting off just from watching you and hearing you. His flesh hand went for your mouth, thumb tracing your plump bottom lip and gently inserting itself. You were alarmed by how easily your lips parted for him; it was like your body was listening to him over you. He withdrew his thumb in favor of slipping in his index and middle fingers to massage your tongue and draw out delirious moans from your throat.

Satisfied with the amount of saliva that coated his digits, he pulled them out and positioned them between your legs. Your mind was still blurry and you repeatedly crossed and stepped back from the threshold of blacking out, but you were still just cognizant enough to feel his wet fingertips at your entrance. He pushed one finger in, then two, and found a slow, steady pace at which to stretch you open. You whimpered in distress and tried to shake your head, only to stop when the action served to disorient you even further.

McCree’s free hand came to the side of your face, turning you so that you were forced to stare into his eyes. He had on the same sick, lecherous expression he wore whenever he encountered you in the halls on base, almost certainly undressing you with his eyes or thinking about some other dirty, inappropriate shit. In those cases, it was easy to tell him off and go about your business. Now you were forced to experience his fantasies with him.

Your stomach turned at the thought, and the feeling was visceral enough for you to throw your hand up against his chest a second time.

Laughing quietly, McCree grasped your hand before it could drop back down to the bed. He lowered his lips to your knuckles and kissed each one, your soft sounds of distress rising in volume with each passing second. The fingers inside you withdrew, only to wrap around his hard cock and give it a few strokes as he pushed the head against your entrance. McCree gently shushed your cries. “It’s okay. I’ll make this good for you too.”

It was terrifying to feel his girth rip through your tight walls while being incapable of fully reacting to it. You could manage tiny gasps and whimpers that increased in volume and frequency as his hips punched against yours with more force. He lowered his body on top of yours, wanting to get as close to you as he possibly could. You shut your eyes tight and squeezed out a few tears as he grunted over you.

“God, I’ve wanted you like this for ages now,” he groaned, his beard tickling your cheeks as he kissed and nipped at whatever skin he could reach. He then moved directly to your mouth, forcing his lips against yours to the point that you were moaning out in pain. “And now that I have you, I’m never gonna let you go. You’re mine, forever and always…”

You cried out, trying your best to form the words to fight against him. The drug’s influence was just too strong, and his weight was so heavy on top of you it felt like he was trying to crush you. You started to panic as his arms closed around you, like he was really trying to ensure you couldn’t take in any more air. McCree pulled you flush against him and let out a blissful sigh, and you came to the unnerving realization that he simply wanted to hug you.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: 'sorry Jesse, I'm seeing someone'
> 
> contains: violence, death

“Sorry, Jesse, I’m seeing someone.”

McCree took your firm refusal of his advances with an unflinching smile. You stared at him, a bit unnerved, waiting for a response. Still sporting that charming smile, he tipped his hat and replied, “I understand. My bad.”

And he left you, rooted in place and confused as all hell. For someone who had been pursuing you as persistently as he had been, he took that surprisingly well. You weren’t complaining, however. You straightened up and walked off, glad that you were able to deal with the issue so painlessly.

Yes, McCree completely understood what the problem was here. There was no way you didn’t want him, not with the way you always made conversation with him and flashed him those brilliant smiles. Your attraction towards him was obviously not an issue. The problem was that you were stuck in a relationship with some sorry loser who wouldn’t let you go.

McCree decided to take matters into his own hands. All to help you, of course.

He knew the guy you were seeing. Didn’t see the big deal, didn’t know what had attracted you to him in the first place. He was an average agent who did his job and kept his head down. Completely undeserving of someone as divine as you, in his opinion.

He had to be taken out of the equation entirely. To do that, McCree had to be patient and wait for just the right opportunity. It took everything in him to restrain himself from you until that opportunity presented itself in the form of a mission. Among the agents sent out were McCree, you, and your partner.

Screw the mission. The second he got out there, McCree had one thing on his mind.

Conveniently, your group managed to split itself up in such a way that McCree was alone with his opposition. There was no warning, no preamble. From behind, the gunslinger lined up the barrel of his Peacekeeper with the poor bastard’s ankles and took two precise shots. Not even missing a beat as the guy screamed and fell to his knees, McCree strolled over and grabbed him by the base of his skull. Swiftly and repeatedly, he smashed his nose into the concrete beneath him until his screams were replaced with the crunch of broken bones and the loud splat of spilled blood. The guy was certainly dead, but McCree couldn’t stop himself from caving his face in until there was nothing left.

Once he was breathing heavily and finally satisfied, McCree squatted down beside the dead agent and lifted him by the hair to examine his work. Whistling loudly, he murmured, “Not much of a looker now, are ya?”

He continued to stare at the bloody corpse, as if waiting for a response. After a few more moments of silence, he dropped it with a sickening slap and pulled himself to his feet, walking off with a swagger in his step. He returned his gun to its holster and pushed the brim of his hat out of his eyes, looking up with a bright, pleasant smile.

“Not much competition anymore, neither.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Jesse and a childhood friend meet up again through Blackwatch and *damn* do they look good (gender neutral please)
> 
> contains: noncon

You and Jesse both had pitiful lives as children: rough neighborhood, shitty parents, neglectful upbringing, the whole nine yards. In a world that seemed to want nothing but failure and misfortune for the two of you, all you had was each other’s company. You stuck together through thick and thin, and Jesse had even declared that the two of you were soulmates. It was a cute, childish notion, but you could only remain children for so long.

A fork in your once shared path abruptly appeared before you late into your teens, when Jesse expressed an interest in joining the Deadlock gang. You were quick to communicate your distrust in their shady business, but he insisted that whatever they had to offer him had to be better than what the two of you were dealing with now. He wanted you to come with him. You were torn between wanting to follow Jesse to the ends of the earth and your gut feeling that Deadlock was up to some dangerous shit you wanted no part in. The resulting argument after you refused had been messy, and it seemed to sever your ties with your childhood friend for good.

Years passed. You grew older, and you realized your ideals could no longer keep you above doing shady work in exchange for your survival. You joined a covert ops division known as Blackwatch as soon as you heard of it.

On the day you were officially recruited, your first thought was that all the soldiers looked so grim-faced and serious. The only face that stuck out sported a wolfish grin as he laughed and joked around with some other agents, and then you realized you recognized that face. It was older, rugged, but you would recognize that smile anywhere, even with a nearly comically-sized cigar between its teeth.

“Jesse?”

The name called his attention, and the sight of you froze him where he stood. He stepped away from the others and stared at you like you were the only other person in the room, in the entire world. Struck by disbelief, he murmured your name out in turn, and your nod and the sparkle in your eyes made that fat cigar slip out of his mouth and tumble to the floor. It was quickly snuffed out beneath his foot as he ran to you, pulling you into his arms and gasping your name out again, this time with more desperation.

You hugged him back just as fiercely, eyes wide as your heart tried to deal with the rush of emotions that were coming back to you after all those years. You remembered the anger that had burned the bridge between the two of you, and you worried he might still remember that anger. However, the way he pet your hair and the absolute love in his embrace put your anxiety to rest. Your eyes fluttered shut as he whispered your name again.

“I can’t believe it’s really you,” he sighed, “it’s been so long.”

— 

While your initial reunion had been heartfelt and emotional, your friendship with Jesse quickly restored itself to how it had been all those years ago. You laughed and joked together, playfully gave each other a hard time, and overall had a better relationship with Jesse than you’d ever had before. Getting to see him everyday and work with him was like a dream.

The two of you often got paired up for missions, just because Reyes knew he’d receive nothing but complaints and headaches if he ever did otherwise. You were sent to scope out omnic territory and learn whatever you could about their tech and any future attacks. Admittedly, it was a bit difficult to work when all Jesse wanted to do was play, but you didn’t have a problem with it. You were too happy to have him back in your life to complain.

Jesse stood in the corner of the room, watching you while you watched your targets. The omnics didn’t seem to have any place in his mind at all as he looked you up and down, examining what the years had done to you. “Damn, I’m still not over this. You’re so grown up now. Your baby fat’s all gone.”

You threw up your middle finger at him. “Well, what about you? Back then, you cherished every single hair that sprouted up on your chin and now you’re a forest.”

He chuckled, shifting his cigar to the other side of his mouth. He crossed the short distance between you and him to sit beside you, and you shifted over a bit to give him a better vantage point of the omnics below. It seemed this wasn’t what he was after, as his strong arm curled around your waist and brought you back against his side. When you looked up at him questioningly, he just smiled with a half-lidded gaze.

You laughed quietly and pushed him off, only mildly concerned when he didn’t budge. He must have been trying to pull a prank on you. “Jesse, come on. We have a job to do.”

He hummed thoughtfully as his hand wandered down to your thigh. “Still a goody two shoes, just like the old days… you must’ve gotten better though, seeing as you’re in Blackwatch now.”

You squirmed uncomfortably in his grip and pushed his hand away when it started stroking your inner thigh. Despite your wishes, his hand simply returned after every shove, and you gnawed on your bottom lip as he continued touching you.

“And you’re still bitin’ your lip like that,” he remarked, eyes transfixed on your mouth. “It was cute when we were kids, but lookit you now… You’re fucking sexy, you know that?”

“Jesse, s-stop,” you stammered, trying to back away when he suddenly leaned towards you. Your back was in a corner now, leaving you trapped and helpless to his advances. He spat his cigar out to the side and tried to kiss you, forcing you to turn your head the opposite way just to avoid him. “Stop it! Why are you doing this?”

“Why’re you so surprised?” he questioned, almost incredulous. He kept reaching for your thighs, and you kept kicking him away. “Don’t tell me you ain’t ever thought about me like this when we were young. I thought about having you like this all the damn time.”

His persistence only agitated you further, prompting you to kick him with a little more strength. He grunted more from surprise than pain as you retorted, “Christ, Jesse, we were _kids_! When we were growing up, you were like a brother to me! Nothing more!”

He stopped trying to kiss you after that, but he continued to loom over you. The look on his face was contemplative. “Is that right? …Well that’s a damn shame.”

You thought he’d conceded, and you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. Because you’d let your guard down, you weren’t prepared for when he suddenly gripped your shoulders and yanked you forward only to slam you down against the floor. There was a sharp crack and then a throb in the base of your skull as you grunted in pain, trying to suppress your volume so as not to alert the enemies below of your presence. However, it was hard to worry about them when a much bigger threat was apparently right in the room with you.

Jesse straddled you and tilted his head, staring down at you with an unreadable expression that made you quiver. He started touching you again, and your resistance was stilted now that he’d disoriented you. “Damn shame that you won’t accept this even though it’s what’s meant for us,” he whispered, pushing your hands away when you tried to stop him from removing your uniform. “Why else would the universe bring us back together? It’s because you and me, we’re _soulmates_.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Idk but can you please do a scenario where a yandere’s mindbreaking abuse works way too well, causing his s/o to become a robotic hollow shell, devoid of any personality, and does everything monotonously with no emotions? Then the yandere realized that he basically destroyed his s/o in the process of trying to make them fall in love? You can choose whichever character seems most fitting. Idk, I really just want angst please.
> 
> contains: noncon, abuse, violence

McCree was a passionate lover, but he also considered himself a gentleman. He would never treat his romantic interest with anything less than the utmost respect they deserved. That is, unless they refused to behave. Then, he unfortunately had to resort to some unsavory measures to put them back in their place. He really didn’t want to hurt you. If you would have just obediently been his sweetheart, you could have avoided all this punishment. You caused this.

At least, that’s what he told himself now. Even while observing your hollow stare and general unresponsiveness, he told himself that you could only blame yourself for things having turned out this way. All McCree wanted to do was love you, and for you to love him too. Why couldn’t you have just listened to him?

Briefly, McCree considered the possibility that he might have had a hand in your state of catatonia. His mind flashed back to every cigar burn, every beating, and every bullet he’d put in you when you stepped out of line. But it’s not like he _wanted _to do those things. You made him do it, because you weren’t being good to him. It really was your fault for being such a brat when McCree had done nothing but the best for you.__

__And yet, there was a peculiar tightness in his chest every time he looked at you._ _

__The luster was gone from your eyes and your cheeks had lost their lively flush. In fact, the only things that still defined you as a living being were your physiological functions; other than that, you were just a dead, hollow shell of the person McCree first fell in love with. He still loved you, but everything felt wrong. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be._ _

__You didn’t do anything when he kissed you or touched you. You didn’t even fight him anymore, just sat there and let him do as he pleased. At first he thought it was better this way, but then he realized that even your negative reactions had been something to look forward to. At least you felt something when you viciously pushed him away, which was a lot more than he could say about you now. Then, in a fit of frustration, he turned to violence instead of affection to try to get a rise out of you._ _

__Hitting you didn’t make him feel better. Watching you take every blow with little more than quiet grunts and whimpers of pain just made his heart ache that much more, and he had to stop himself from going after you when you wedged yourself in the corner of the room. You curled into yourself and cowered before him, but you didn’t fight. Your rebellious fire was gone. The only passion you held for McCree was gone. The thought was too much for him to bear, so he left you alone to collect himself._ _

__McCree returned a few hours later to find that you’d remained in that corner, still curled up and staring at the wall. His throat was dry as he slowly approached and sat beside you, a tray of dinner in his hands. He set it down in front of you in the hopes that you would eat, but you made no motion to grab the utensils. So he had to be the one to feed you, again._ _

__“You ain’t still mad at me, are ya?” he chuckled, though he found no humor in the situation. He gently nudged your mouth open with a spoonful of food. “I didn’t even hit you that hard.”_ _

__Wordlessly, you accepted the food he was giving you. The weak smile fell from McCree’s face as he examined the dried blood crusted around the corner of your lip. The rest of you wasn’t in much better condition, courtesy of his actions earlier in the day._ _

__With a slow, shaky exhale, he lowered the spoon back to the tray and took your cheek into his palm. He gently thumbed the purple crescent forming under your eye, making you flinch but ultimately stay put. McCree’s chest tightened again with a feeling to which he still couldn’t put a name. Or rather, he refused to. “Goddamn it, sweet pea,” he choked out, tears beginning to spill from his eyes. “This isn’t what I wanted for us.”_ _


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: What about... One of the Blackwatch boys.... forcing a male s/o.... to wear girls clothes.... so he can look nice and pretty for them.............*sweats*
> 
> contains: noncon, forced feminization

You did your best not to whimper, not wanting to give McCree any more material to shamelessly palm his clothed crotch to. But it was so hard to remain impassive and still in the humiliating position he had you in: legs spread, hips jutted forward, poised in tight pink lingerie with six-inch stilettos to match. Your legs were quivering from standing in front of him like this for what felt like ages now, when it probably hadn’t even been a minute. These damn heels were so cramped it felt like they were cutting off your circulation.

“Oh, sweet pea,” he groaned, bucking up slightly into his open palm. “You make the prettiest picture.”

You pursed your lips to keep from spitting back a scathing remark and briefly tasted the lipstick he’d forcefully painted onto you. If the sick fuck wanted a girl so badly, why had he taken you?

Your pointed silence made him raise his half-lidded eyes to you, and he beckoned you over with a wave of his hand. “C’mere.”

You hesitated to obey at first, but you knew that would end up being more trouble than it was worth. Carefully extending one foot in front of you to cross the short distance between you and your captor, you slowly put weight on your sole and tried to move forward. Your legs wobbled and instantly buckled, and you threw your hands in front of you to brace yourself for the nasty fall sure to follow. But you managed to fall so far forward that your palms met McCree’s thighs rather than the floor, and you found yourself directly in front of the hard bulge in his pants.

McCree pet your hair with a soft snort. “Ain’t got a bit of grace to ya, huh? But… you are eager, and I like that.”

You had to stop yourself from glaring at him as he began deftly removing his belt and undoing his zipper. His pants went down just enough to free his fat cock and let it flop out onto your face. You scowled, cheeks alight with shame, as he rubbed himself over your lipstick.

“Come on, princess,” he cooed, but the voice just sounded mocking alongside your heartbeat in your ears. “Open up.”

You briefly considered remaining defiant until he got bored with you, but you knew it wouldn’t happen. In the end, you decided you wanted to get this over with quickly, so you parted your lips and let him in. McCree let out a soft groan as his leaking tip slid over your velvety tongue, which you begrudgingly lapped and twisted around him to get him off sooner. One hand wrapped around the base of his cock to stroke his shaft while your other hand held onto his thigh for stability.

McCree moved his thigh in such a way that nudged you off of him, and you paused in sucking him off to see what he was doing. Then you nearly choked when you felt the hard tip of his boot ghosting along the side of your cock, which was erect despite your circumstances. Trembling, you reached down to grab his ankle and stop him, but he easily evaded your hand. “Why’d you stop?” he questioned, as if nothing were out of the ordinary. “Keep going.”

Your glare didn’t have as much bite to it now that you were shamefully getting off to being toyed with like this, but you glared at him nonetheless. You continued suckling him diligently, letting out a soft whimper every now and again when McCree applied just enough pressure on your swollen cock for it to feel good. His boot found the underside of your balls, painfully heavy and bulging against the tight confines of your pink panties, and you jerked back violently in response. “J-Jesse,” you gasped, “please.”

McCree smiled coyly at you and put his hand on the back of your head, bringing you back to your original position between his legs. It took some coaxing to get you to put your lips back on his dick, and his foot found your cock again the second you did so. “No way. You’re actually gettin’ off from having me step on you? Dirty girl.”

Your words of protest died in your throat when McCree grabbed hold of either side of your head and began moving you to a pace more to his liking. You tried to fight him, hands flailing uselessly at his thighs, but you hardly bothered him. When his foot began incessantly nudging at your cock again, your hands flew down to grip his ankle and push him off of you. Apparently, it was just that struggle and degradation that did it for you, as your climax quickly came in the form a long white stripe flying up and painting over your lingerie.

Your resistance had been quite satisfying for McCree as well, who pulled you in close to receive his release. He had your nose flush against the trail of dark, coarse hair along his groin and your throat absolutely stuffed with his cock. He let out a long, loud groan of pleasure as your tight throat milked him dry, and he pulled out slowly so you could really feel every inch of him. Once he let you go, you took in as much air as you could with gasping breaths. McCree took advantage of your open mouth by pushing the head of his cock back in, trying to get you to clean him up a bit.

He thumbed the corner of your mouth as you begrudgingly sucked on his tip. Smearing around what little remained of your lipstick, he cooed adoringly, “Such a pretty girl.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Hi! I love your writing!!!! Can I please please please have a Dark!Yandere!McCree fic where McCree comes back from a really rough mission and he just really need some stress relief. (His captive s/o still doesn't like him at all but McCree has been so nice and trying to get her to love him back until today, like, he's finally snapped)
> 
> contains: noncon, abuse, violence

McCree considered himself a nice guy; he was softer than his outward rough-and-tumble appearance would suggest. When he left on this mission, he’d wanted to come back to you for kisses and cuddles, even if you still weren’t totally willing. You were past the stage of actively fighting him, but you weren’t quite reciprocating yet either. All that mattered to him, however, was that you would stay still when he wanted to hold you in his arms.

That would have been the plan if his mission had gone well. Unfortunately, the whole thing was a complete bust that had him in a foul mood from start to finish. He was still fuming when he returned to your shared home and made his way to the room he had you locked in.

You sat up with a jolt upon hearing him, startled by how loudly the door slammed open. Then, after getting a good look at the scowl on his face, you tensed.

Silence hung heavy in the air. McCree was the one to break through it when he snarled, “C’mere.”

You instinctively did the opposite of what he commanded by launching yourself out of bed and into the corner, helplessly trying to get away from him. He growled in frustration since you were forcing him to go after you, though it was obviously no physical toll for him. The gunslinger crouched before you and subdued your flailing limbs with ease, if a bit annoyance as well. The wild look on his face still frightened you and you begged, “Jesse no, no, _please_ –”

“I’m tired of hearing ‘no’,” he retorted, easily shredding your clothing away with one rough hand. With your neck exposed, he licked a long, slow line against your jugular and your breath caught in your throat. “Just take it, darling. You need this just as much as I need to do this to you.”

The moment he withdrew to continue tearing the rest of your clothing off of you, you threw your arms up against him in self-defense and fruitlessly tried to crawl away. McCree was in no mood to be defied, evident in the way his hand gripped the back of your neck and slammed your face into the ground. You were momentarily subdued by the blow and the taste of blood pouring from your nose into your mouth, but you didn’t let that stop you from fighting him with your words. “Please,” you whimpered, words slurring. “Jesse, I don’t want to…”

He responded by seizing your hair in a tight, metal fist and arching your back to pull your face towards him. The abrupt motion made your head spin, and you were suddenly much more aware of the alarming amount of blood leaking out of your nose. McCree shoved you down into the pool of your own blood as he straddled either side of your thighs. “This’ll be a lot easier if you just keep quiet, sugar.”

You tried to obey him, but you were so damn scared that a few whimpers got out every now and again. Then you gasped outright when he brutishly tugged your pants and underwear down, most definitely tearing them as he yanked them off your ankles. He nudged your thighs open, and you weakly spread them to give him enough space to work with. You nearly choked when he thrust two fingers into your mouth without warning, stirring them up to gather as much lubrication as he could. When he withdrew, you couldn’t help but notice your own blood mixed in and you winced as he began rubbing your dry entrance.

The sound of McCree’s belt being tossed aside made your heart pound in your ears. Meekly, you chanced a peek over your shoulder and he responded by grabbing the base of your skull and pushing you back down. He shifted to get a better angle, and the feeling of his tip rubbing against your folds made you shudder.

Despite your orders, you softly begged, “Jesse, please be gentle…”

Your request gave him pause, and you knew it could have only had one of two outcomes. Either your weak voice somehow got through to him and restored his usual caring attitude towards you, or you’d managed to piss him off even more. You prayed to god it was the former.

When McCree speared his entire length into your shallowly lubricated cunt, you realized you’d only made him angrier. Your cries grew louder the further he sank in, and you desperately reached back to claw at any part of him you could grasp. He gathered your hands behind your back and held them there, allowing him to pound into you without mercy or any hindrance. Your head spiraled as his thrusting hips consistently rocked you forward. “S-stop, it hurts!”

He latched onto your neck and squeezed, his breathing becoming more labored both from exertion and rage. Your body involuntarily tightened around him in response, encouraging his movements to grow harsher still. “I told you to be quiet and you’re still mouthin’ off to me? Even tryin’ to tell me what to do? I’m up to my neck in shit like that on the field, I don’t need to come home to you trying to do the same.”

He let you go and you took in gasping breaths like your life depended on it. Too afraid to speak now but still needing an outlet to communicate your pain, you took to crying. Your body quaked with the soft sobs that rippled through you, and you hoped the act was quiet enough that McCree would leave you be.

It was too much to hope for, apparently, as McCree pressed his palm over your nose and mouth to coax you into absolute silence. “Why’re you crying? I’m being _gentle_.”

His final word was punctuated by a rough thrust that reached your cervix, sending a jolt of pain all throughout your body. Every punch of his hips after that ensured that he would reach the deepest part of you, and you were a sobbing mess by the time he finally finished. You felt sick to your stomach at the sound of McCree’s pleasured groan over your head, the suffocating warmth of his heaving chest against your back. But nothing was more vile than the feeling of his seed leaking out of you as he pulled out.

Slowly, McCree released you and brought himself to his feet, but not before wiping your tears and blood from his hand onto the back of your shirt. You listened over your shallow breaths as he got dressed and started to head out, and your heart rate picked up when you didn’t hear him leave right away.

“I’m sorry,” he called earnestly from the doorway. There was a pointed pause, like he was waiting to see if you would respond, but he went right on talking when you didn’t. “I’m… still not in a good enough place right now to give you a proper apology, but I’ll make it up to you later, baby. I promise.”

He waited again to see if you would answer, but you didn’t, so he walked away, the jingle of his spurs fading with him. Alone, you finally let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. If he had done all that to you and he still wasn’t completely de-stressed from his mission, you didn’t even want to think about what would have happened if he had kept going.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: A yandere McCree either orders or intercepts an order for a mail-order bride reader?
> 
> contains: noncon, kidnapping, human trafficking

The fall of Overwatch did not mean the end to McCree’s pursuit of justice. It just meant he would have to go about it differently, as more of a lone wolf than one in a pack. He went about his business beyond red tape as per usual, but without the safety net of Blackwatch to catch him. He was an outlaw who acted with all the best intentions in mind, even if the law disagreed with him.

Recently, he’d caught wind of some shady business going down in New Mexico, so he set up shop there and tried to learn as much as he could. He overheard talk about smuggling, and he first assumed that it was drugs or weapons. The further he looked into it, however, he quickly learned that the goods these gangs were dealing were people. Young women, specifically, were being sold for god knows how much to any number of sick buyers.

As much as he wanted to go in and shut down this twisted operation right away, it just wasn’t realistic for him to do it on his own. There were too many guards watching the women around the clock, and even if he did manage to take them out, he was left with the matter of transporting and protecting all of the prisoners. Charging in alone with that much on his plate was sure suicide.

He found himself observing the women as he tried to figure out what to do, and, more often than not, his eyes would be on you. There was some inexplicable quality to you that pulled him in and wouldn’t let go. Slowly but steadily, the mission became less about saving all these women, and more about his infatuation with you. When he should have been watching the guards and figuring out their rotations and any possible weaknesses, he was watching you instead. Only when he learned that you were going to be sold soon did he finally spring into selfish action.

McCree had been watching you long enough to know when you’d be with others and when you’d be left alone. It was easiest to go after you then, under the cover of night. If there was any knowledge he was glad to have picked up from Blackwatch, it was the beauty of stealth.

You were asleep when he finally approached you, and you were every bit as beautiful up close as you were from afar. The soft jingle of his spurs gave away his presence, causing your eyes to snap open as you prepared to scream. He reacted instantly by clapping his gloved hand over your mouth and raising a metal finger to his own, wordlessly asking for silence. You capitulated only because his hand was still on you, and he could see in your wide eyes and trembling form that you were still terrified.

“Don’t worry,” he urged you softly. “I’m not a bad guy. I wanna break you out of here.”

At that, you began nodding your head frantically and he felt safe enough to let you speak. You needed a moment to regain your composure, but it never came back fully as you said in a broken voice, “They’re going to sell me tomorrow.”

Seeing you so scared just broke his heart, but it served as a firm reminder that he had to get you out of here now. Gently, he helped you out of bed and onto your unsteady feet. “I’m not gonna let them. Ain’t no one gonna hurt you if you come with me.”

You let him start guiding you towards an exit before suddenly standing firm, forcing him to turn around and look back at you with confusion. Gesturing vaguely behind you, you said, “But, the other girls… what about my friends?”

That you were so concerned about others when your own well-being was at risk put a warm smile on McCree’s face, and he attempted to convey that affection by reaching for your cheek. You instinctively backed away from him, reminding him that, as much as he knew about you now, he was still a stranger in your eyes. So he hardened his heart until the mission was done. “I’m running a bit of a one man operation right now, so it’d be hard for me to smuggle more than just a single person. You’d best just come with me for now and we’ll do something about the other ladies once you’re safe.”

Uncertainty was still clear on your face, but you ultimately ended up following him out. After all, you weren’t about to bite the first hand to pet you rather than strike you since this whole ordeal began.

Getting you out of the gang’s facility unseen and unheard was a bit of a trial, but it ultimately resulted in success. Though you were free, you didn’t seem comfortable enough to say anything until he led you far away from the gang’s headquarters and into his own meager little hideout. There, you finally let out the tears brimming in your eyes and the sobs that had been threatening to spill out from between your lips.

You threw yourself against him, wrapping your arms around his sturdy torso as your tears bled into the fabric of his shirt. “Thank you… I don’t know how I can repay you.”

McCree shushed you gently, bringing his thumb up to swipe across your cheeks. “Shh, it’s all right. You’re better off with me than those bastards anyway.”

You seemed to stiffen in his arms before slowly pulling away from him, just enough to look up and see that eerie, easygoing smile on his face. “What do you mean?”

He continued petting your hair while his other hand tightened slightly around your waist. “Just what I said, darling. Those sick traffickers, and their buyers… they only wanted to hurt you. But me? I’m gonna take care of you.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Would you consider writing anything sex mist related? With female reader x soldier76, reaper, hanzo, or mccree? (Sex mist as in aphrodisiac in gas form with extreme effects)
> 
> contains: sex mist, aphrodisiac

When Overwatch was recalled but only a handful of its old heroes answered, it was a bit difficult to do the same amount of good it had done in the past. While its old roster couldn’t be restored entirely, it did manage to attract the attention of new, bright eyes who wanted to help make the world a better place. You were among those new recruits, not as a soldier, but a scientist. McCree didn’t know what exactly you did in the laboratory all day, but he did know he liked the sight of you in that white coat. You were so smart and sexy and he couldn’t help but be enamored.

He liked to pop into your lab periodically and talk to you about just about anything: how you were feeling, what you were up to, that sort of thing. Often, he had no idea what you were talking about, but he liked to hear you say it. Then came a day when it would have paid off to know what kinds of chemicals you were working with, as he found you in an extremely vulnerable position.

When he strolled in, you were lying in a crumpled heap on the floor with some test tubes spilled over and unknown substances leaking all around you. From the toppled glassware came a pink-colored mist, something he assumed was the result of a combination of chemicals that perhaps shouldn’t have made contact. Relative to the amount of liquids you had on your desk, the density of the gas filling the area was astounding.

“Miss?” he approached you carefully, in case you were hurt, and gently shook your shoulders. You jolted just enough to indicate that you were conscious, earning a sigh of relief from the cowboy. The next breath he took reminded him just how thick the air had become, and he tried to cover his mouth with his serape. “Miss, are you okay to walk? I think we should get you outta here.”

You grabbed onto his arm as best you could, but in your current state, your limbs appeared to be about as sturdy as cooked noodles. While that was alarming, what really got McCree’s attention was the way you moaned as your hand slipped off of his forearm. It sounded too sultry to be a noise of exertion. Additionally, your skin was practically boiling against his, even with the barrier of your latex glove.

“Miss?” he asked again, swallowing hard. Now that he got a better look at you, your dishevelment looked obscene. Your button-down was unkempt, giving him an eyeful of your cleavage and the little droplets of sweat that gave your skin a nice sheen. Your cheeks were pink, as if the gas in the air had stained them. And your eyes were just glazed over with some emotion that made McCree’s heart race. He’d never seen you look at him like that before.

“Jesse,” you choked out, and hearing that slight rumble in your tone made him swallow again. “Not safe… you n-need to get out…”

“Pardon?” he questioned, partially because he didn’t understand and mostly because he wanted to hear you speak again. There was a sultry edge to your normally smooth, pleasant voice, and he couldn’t get enough of it.

“The air,” you clarified with a vague gesture of your weak limbs. “I messed up. We’re not safe here…”

McCree was hearing you, but he was far more interested in looking at you. He mindlessly dropped his serape from his face so he could get a better look at you, undisturbed. Maybe his mind was just in the gutter, but did you look… curvier? And your lips and your lashes looked fuller too, emphasized by every word you spoke and every movement of your eyes. He’d been trying to lift you initially, but then he started to set you back down as his legs sprawled out on either side of yours.

“J-Jesse,” you coughed, “what are you doing? You have to cover your mouth, it isn’t safe to breathe in–”

He pressed his lips against yours with an indescribable desperation, and the contact made him moan long and low. You let out a soft noise into his mouth, encouraging him to go further by unbuttoning your shirt and pulling your pants down. He elected to keep your lab coat on.

“Jesse!” you cried out, and you sounded a lot more averse to this than you looked. “Y-you can’t!”

But he was already too far gone, removing his belt and taking in the sight of you splayed out before him with a bit of a sick leer. “I gotta, sugar… I feel like a man possessed.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: its me, your totally anon pal: consider thicc dumb yandere mccree going thru all this trouble to bait his s/o into doing what he wants (since u know he tries the whole “this is what’s best for u, darlin” kinda shit) only 2 realize its so much easier to just... overpower them w/ his huge body. like he just has to sit on u and you can’t do shit. n he absolutely gets off on how pathetic, tiny, and weak you are in comparison *eye emoji*
> 
> contains: noncon

For all of his bravado and outward charm, McCree actually harbored a couple of insecurities. The life of an outlaw didn’t afford him the same resources that Overwatch had back in the day, both in a practical and social sense. Back then, he had a healthy balance of good food and exercise that gave him a chiseled physique, which, in turn, gave him the confidence to talk and flirt with the abundant number of co-workers he had at the time. Now, however, he didn’t quite have the same routines to keep him fit, nor did he have many companions. If it weren’t for his vigilante sense of justice to keep him going, he would have long since become a hermit.

He could feel himself falling into that mindset with every passing day, and he wanted to do everything in his power to prevent that. His subconscious urged him to tap back into the wild impulses on which he acted when he was a younger man, which led to the abrupt addition of you into his life.

When he first spotted you, he couldn’t stop thinking about how pretty you were. If he were condemned to nothing more than simple observation, he would surely lose his mind. At least, that was all the justification he needed to go out and snatch you up under the cover of night. In that moment, he felt more alive than he had in a long time, and the feeling of you in his arms, struggling though you were, was practically euphoric.

Then, when he stashed you in his hideaway, the high faded and he realized what he’d done. McCree was lonely, not a psychopath, but he couldn’t very well let you go now that he had you here. You’d seen his face, and he couldn’t ensure that you wouldn’t give away his location if you made it to the authorities.

But even stronger than his desire to avoid the law was his desire for companionship. It was a bit difficult to keep you in place when he had to look out for himself as well, but he managed. In fact, he went out of his way to do everything he could to please you, to make you less hostile towards him. He understood that he hadn’t exactly given you reason to trust him, but he thought he could at least help you see that he truly wasn’t a bad guy.

Trying so hard to make you happy when you wouldn’t even put in the effort to meet him halfway took its toll on McCree and steadily chipped away at his patience until he finally snapped. He was tired of you making his life more difficult when you were supposed to be a source of relief and comfort. It was like he acted on autopilot the day he snatched your throat in the middle of your daily verbal abuse. You’d stood up and turned your back on him, leaving your neck perfectly exposed to his thick forearm.

It took you a moment to realize that his arm had curled and locked around your throat. He hadn’t raised a hand to you once since he first brought you here, so it must have been horrific when he suddenly started getting rough with you. He hardly needed any effort to turn you around and wrestle you down onto the mattress, keeping you in place with his much larger bulk. All this time, he wanted you to warm up to him and come to him on your own because he thought it would be more fulfilling that way. But now, the feeling of you flailing and wiggling uselessly beneath him made him feel alive again, the same way he felt when he first took you away. The way he felt in his glory days.

McCree was so aroused by the sheer size difference and disparity in strength between you both that he went on for hours, no matter how many times you tried to deny him. In fact, it was exactly that struggle that made him want to keep going until you finally tired yourself out, simply lying beneath him and taking it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Since you mentioned more Mccree, how about him with a chubby s/o and going from naughty cuddles to rough af sex 👀
> 
> contains: consensual

If there was anywhere in the world you felt safest and most secure, it was in McCree’s arms. He loved your body even when you didn’t, grabbing handfuls of your soft, supple flesh and trailing kisses behind his wandering hands. You liked the way he pampered you and treasured you. Truly you did, but a naughtier part of you that you weren’t too willing to acknowledge wished that he would get a bit rough with you sometimes. You obviously loved how sweet and caring he was, but part of what attracted you to him was that rugged, manly exterior and you occasionally wished he would treat you in a way that was reflective of that: domineering and primal. The mere thought of McCree manhandling you made you unbelievably wet.

You didn’t dare to bring this up now, however, when his strong arms were wrapped around you and pulling you snugly into his chest. If you ignored the way his crotch ground idly against your ass, the overall mood was very gentle and sweet. He probably wanted something more sensual than the depravity you were thinking of.

You hummed happily at the feeling of his scruff tickling your skin as he dragged his lips across the nape of your neck. His grip on your waist became the slightest bit firmer to better hold your ass against his pelvis. When you turned to peek at him over your shoulder, he quickly captured your lips with his own, moaning long and low into your mouth. You parted from him and the way he looked at you like you put the stars in the sky made your heart thump. His voice was gravelly, more so than usual from being on the cusp of sleep, as he murmured, “Feel like messin’ around, darling?”

How could you say no to that? Smiling, you replied, “If you’re up for it.”

His mouth split into a goofy grin as he ground his distinctly stiff crotch against the swell of your ass. “I most certainly am up for it.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at his crude remark before letting him guide your arms around his thick neck. When his lips met yours he rolled over so that you were on top, your generous thighs resting on either side of his comparatively muscular legs. The shift in position gave you pause for a moment but you quickly got your mind off of it by leaning down to kiss him again. You appreciated that he liked to admire your full figure on top, but it didn’t satisfy your need to feel small and absolutely malleable to his will.

McCree’s fingers dug into the meat of your waist to pull you down harder against him. “You look damn good up there. How about you ride me tonight?”

He was so sweet you couldn’t help but smile, but your heart must not have been in it since he met you with a frown.

“What’s wrong?”

You shook your head but he wouldn’t let you drop the subject. So you shrugged and idly drew circles in his chest with the tip of your finger as you murmured, “I think… I’d rather be more passive tonight.”

His hands clapped gently over your thighs and stroked them reassuringly. “Of course, sugar. Anything you want.”

If you could really have anything you wanted, you would have worked up the guts to ask him to make your dream of being manhandled a reality. But you just couldn’t get the words out so you remained where you were on top of him, playing with his chest hair instead of communicating what you really wanted.

Thankfully McCree could tell when you were holding out on him, as his hands slipped behind you to give your ass two encouraging pats. “What do you want? Just tell me.”

His eagerness to know gave you a gentle push forward but you were still cautious. “I don’t want to be unreasonable.”

“Can’t know if you are until you tell me.”

You knew he was right. If anything, you were being more unreasonable by not communicating what you really wanted. So, with your face in your hands, you admitted carefully, “I just really want you to be rough with me. I love that you treat me like a princess, but… I think it’d be exciting if you were a little meaner.”

McCree’s palms had been stroking your thighs and ass throughout your whole confession until you were finished speaking, at which point he began dragging his fingertips along your skin instead. The motion made you shiver but it was the smooth drawl his voice took on that really did you in. “Well what’s so unreasonable about that?”

The look in his eyes was so primal and hungry that you had to stop and wonder if you’d bitten off more than you could chew with your request. Instead of answering, you gestured vaguely around your belly to communicate that you thought your size would be a bit of a hindrance.

He cocked his head. “I’m offended you’d think I can’t pick you up and throw you around however I please.”

Just hearing him say it sent a wave of tingles down your spine. “That’s something I’d like to see. …If you’re up for it.”

You didn’t fail to notice the way his grip tightened around your thighs at the same time his lips spread out into a smirk. “Is that a challenge?”

You just shrugged innocently, and the next thing you knew you were caught between the wall and McCree’s bulk. For someone who constantly complained about his age and bad habits catching up to him, he sure moved quick. His hand dipped briefly between your legs and he seemed very smug to find that you were so aroused you barely needed any prep. So he held you in place with one hand while the other guided his cock into your slick entrance.

You bit your lip at the stretch, which was the tiniest bit more painful and a hell of a lot more exciting without his usual and generous foreplay. The unique position of being pinned against the wall and suspended in air nearly had you dripping, and it was something McCree wasn’t going to let go unnoticed. He looked up at you and that predatory glint in his eyes was enough to turn you into putty in his hands. “Look how badly you wanted this. How long have you been keeping this from me?”

Once again, the only response you could muster was a stupid shrug. It was half because you didn’t know what to say, and half because you wanted to see what he would do.

What he did was thrust hard and deep into you, and he savored the breathless moan that slipped out of your mouth as a result. He needed only a moment to bottom out before starting a pace rough enough to get all kinds of noises out of you. Grunting from exertion and the excitement of it all, he growled, “Seems I’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for. I ain’t putting you down ‘til you’re _begging_ me to stop.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Hey hey, can I request hcs about Jacob and maybe McCree knowing that the reader is a virgin and how they use that to make them extremely uncomfortable? Like brushing up too close, touching them by accident, bringing up sexual topics, having them sit in their lap or stuff like that? Thank you :)
> 
> contains: noncon

-The man is so damn charismatic and charming that you almost feel bad about feeling uncomfortable around him. You try to tell yourself he’s just being nice and you’re just being a prude, but you can’t shake the suspicion that something is off about him.  
-You examine his actions and the way he interacts with you. Whenever you happen to pass each other in a narrow hallway or a big crowd, he always squeezes past you by placing a hand on your lower back and with his chest briefly rubbing against you. It isn’t too odd, though his lingering touches tend to stick out in your mind.  
-Conversations with him, while generally pleasant, somehow always manage to take a turn for the crude. He tells you all about his sexual escapades over the course of his life surely because he thinks it makes for a funny story, and not because they make you uncomfortable and he likes to see you squirm.  
-What you hate the most is when you happen across him alone, like when he’s the only one occupying the break room or when you have to pass by the smoking area he likes to sit in. He’ll insist that you come sit with him, which you wouldn’t be too opposed to if he didn’t pull you up into his lap every single time. You wish you had the guts to tell him how much you hated this, but there was something about his persistence that mildly terrified you.  
-The situation goes from mild to severe when he has you sit down on his hard-on, strong and straining against the confines of his pants. You can’t believe how bold he’s become that he would shamelessly grind his cock against your ass in broad daylight, and you hate yourself for being unable to stop him.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: I've always loved the idea of Mccree having a thing with oral fixation, it's why he plays with that cigar all the damn time, but he'd rather having something else~ Could I request yandere!mccree coming home and forcing his small sensitive submissive s/o!reader to sit naked in his lap so he could suckle on her nipples to his heart's content to relax after a rough day. His s/o tries her best to comfort him while he used her, but he quickly has her falling apart, sobbing from overstimulation.  
> Do you think Mccree would enjoy biting?
> 
> contains: dubcon, oral fixation, biting, overstimulation

Jesse always seemed to be on edge these days now that Blackwatch was forced into the spotlight after Gabriel’s stunt in Rialto. Maybe he thought the attention would lead to the discovery of you, his greatest treasure and his best kept secret. You attributed his increasingly frequent visits to his fear of you being found out and subsequently taken away from him. By this point you were so used to relying on Jesse that you, too, weren’t sure how you would manage without him. The voice in your head that used to beg for freedom was now much quieter than the voice that longed to stay with him.

You weren’t exactly loving towards him, but you were accommodating. When he came to you after a long day and he wanted to unwind, you wanted to give whatever you could to help him achieve that. Usually that was sex, but lately he’s been wanting something a little unusual but something you were still willing to offer regardless.

When he entered the room with that awful scowl on his face, cigar not even lit because it was more for idly chewing than actually smoking at this point, you just knew to get undressed. No ceremony, no making a show out of it; all Jesse wanted was for you to be naked in his lap, pronto.

While you made yourself bare before him, he would sit impatiently on the edge of the bed. You approached him hastily but not eagerly. This was more of his thing than yours anyway.

His legs were spread and you took a seat by straddling one of his thick thighs. Your knee lightly brushed against the prominent bulge in his pants while you were trying to get comfortable, and the resulting grumble from deep in his chest made you bristle. It made you straighten your back and sit at attention, presenting your breasts to him without any further delay.

His arms were warm as they wrapped around your waist and pulled you forward. The action inadvertently pressed your leg against his crotch once again and ground your pussy against his thigh. This in combination with his mouth instantly latching onto one of your perky nipples made you bite your lip to stifle a moan. Jesse didn’t tease you or ease you into it at all. He just went to town, hot tongue swirling around the sensitive nub until it rose to a firm peak, and even then he wouldn’t stop. His lips would wrap around it and suck, like he wanted to draw out milk that wasn’t there. If ever he got you pregnant, you could only imagine how much longer lactation would drag out this process.

Lately, however, when he tired of using his lips and tongue, he began using his teeth. He was never rough enough to really hurt you but feeling him nip at your tender flesh for the first time had been a shock. Now you were used to it, but you weren’t used to the way it made your spine tingle and practically turned you into jelly in his hands. The only thing that grounded you when he started to get rough was the feeling of your clit rubbing against the rough material of his pants. You could feel yourself leaking arousal all over his leg, and you could feel his hard crotch against your knee the more he jostled you.

It was getting harder to keep quiet, but then maybe Jesse didn’t want you to conceal your noises anyway. He was handling you rougher, holding you tighter, and sucking you harder. All of these sensations had you hurtling toward an unwilling orgasm that made your mind blank and your legs convulse. You would have been fine if he had stopped there and given your frazzled nerves some times to get themselves back into sorts, but he didn’t. His lips tightened around your oversensitive nipple and his thigh rose to meet your wet, needy cunt to bring you over the edge a second time. You seemed to have a third one in you but your trembling hand reached down to latch onto his thigh, pushing it away as you shook your head in a wordless plea for mercy.

Jesse settled, but only to pull you in another position so your untouched nipple was lined up in front of his mouth. He had a dangerous look in his eye that meant he wouldn’t take your refusal a second time. “Ain’t finished with you yet.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: I'm living for lifeguard mccree but sadly there isn't enough of him 😔 could I possibly request reader being actually swept from the tide and be rescued by the one and only, however he pulls you to somewhere secluded and insists he checks every inch of her body to see no damage has been done
> 
> contains: consensual

Jesse gnawed on his popsicle stick, which had long since been sucked dry of any fruit juice that might have remained. Chewing on the stupid thing was all he could do to deal with the sight of you frolicking in the sun in that skimpy little suit of yours. You must have known what you were doing to him. You must have worn it on purpose to tease him all throughout his shift, knowing full well he wouldn’t be able to swap out with Angela until well into the afternoon.

That being said he was still responsible for everyone else’s safety, so he had to force himself to look away from you and make sure everyone else was doing all right too. Every once in a while he would catch you staring only to watch your head swivel the other way the moment he tried to glance back at you. He ground his teeth against his popsicle stick out of frustration.

You just loved to play coy, and his swimming trunks were not getting any looser.

Nonchalantly, he slipped his towel off of his shoulders and balled it up in his lap. He _sincerely_ hoped no one could tell what was going on with him. You clearly could, evident in the way you would occasionally look back at him with that little self-satisfied smile on your face. Jesse would answer with a smile of his own, one that very clearly communicated his intentions once he managed to get his hands on you.

This wasn’t good. If you kept bouncing around like that and swaying your hips with every step you took, he was sure he wouldn’t last. Jesse glanced around to check on the other beach-goers and concluded that everyone seemed to be playing nice. No one seemed to be in any particular danger. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he sat back and closed his eyes for a little bit, just long enough to clear his head and get himself to calm down.

Slouching back in his chair, he laid his head back and rested his hat over his eyes to block out the sun. He wasn’t going to let himself fall asleep, but maybe if he had the chance to just close his eyes for a moment then he could get himself back into sorts. A few minutes was all he needed.

Before he could start taking it too easy, a familiar yelp caught his attention. His hat went flying off of his face as he sat upright, eyes quickly scanning the beach to see if he could detect the source of that cry. He found you way further out in the water than you should have been, flailing and calling out for him specifically to come help you.

If there was anything that could kill his arousal in less than a second, it was the sight of you in danger. He practically leapt out of his chair and sprinted for the water, diving in without hesitation. At his speed he easily closed the distance between you and him, and you latched onto his arm the second he was close enough.

Jesse wanted to know what the hell you were thinking by going out so far into the water, but the interrogation could wait. For now, he had to get you back to shore. He started treading back now that he had you hanging off of his arm but you suddenly became dead weight at his side, like you didn’t want him to go any further. He looked back at you, incredulous. “What’re you doing?”

“We can’t go back yet,” you insisted, face hot from what was starting to look more like embarrassment than exertion. “When the wave knocked me down, I… lost something.”

Jesse’s mind was going a mile a minute after having just saved you from drowning, so it was reasonable that he couldn’t slow down and figure out what you were talking about. After treading in place and simply staring at you for what must have been a good minute of awkward silence, he finally realized what you meant. A stupid smile crossed his features as he raised a brow and asked, “Really? You lost your top in the water? That’s so clichéd.”

His remark only seemed to stoke the flames on your cheeks. “…It wasn’t my top.”

Now it was his turn to be the bane of your existence by laughing raucously until you punched him in the side enough times to make him shut up and start looking. Thankfully, there were a few large rocks nearby where you could sit, sheltered from the sightlines of everyone else on the beach. You pulled your legs up to your chest and pointedly hid your bare crotch from his view as you watched him dive down into the water, only to come up empty each time.

Eventually, you must have felt bad about making him search since you waved him over after a few more fruitless attempts. He swam to where you were and leaned his arms against the rocks, respectfully keeping his gaze only on your face. You reached down to stroke his cheek affectionately. “It’s okay if you can’t find it. Just… come back with your towel and then rush me to the changing rooms. Maybe it’s nature’s way of telling me I’ve had enough fun in the sun for the day.”

“Or maybe that you should’ve stopped teasin’ me,” he countered, now able to wear the same self-satisfied grin you’d had on earlier.

You slapped his cheek lightly before rubbing your fingertips against his stubble. “You loved it. Don’t lie.”

“Maybe I did. Maybe I loved it so much I just gotta take you right here, right now,” he murmured, fingertips skimming the sides of your thighs in a gentle effort to make you spread them. You bit your lip and pulled your legs in further despite how much you wanted to give in to him.

“What a horrible lifeguard. Willing to jeopardize everyone else’s safety just so he can get his dick wet.”

“Ain’t no one else on the beach stupid enough to let the water drag ‘em away by their panties.”

That remark got a laugh out of you, and it also earned him another gentle slap. “Come on, this is already embarrassing enough. You don’t have to rub it in my face.”

Jesse looked up at you with those adoring puppy dog eyes that you just couldn’t refuse, no matter what his request was. “How about you buy my silence, sugar? It’ll cost you a kiss.”

Now that was something you couldn’t say no to. Smiling softly, you leaned down and cupped both sides of his face, meeting him halfway as he rose up just enough for your lips to meet. His hands found your hips and smoothed over the now distinctly bare skin. Before he could get too frisky and start really feeling you up, you backed away from him, but not before leaving another gentle peck against his forehead. “Thank you for saving me from the water and my own stupidity.”

“Thank you for believing I wasn’t competent enough to even find a single pair of panties,” he grinned, fishing into his pocket to reveal none other than your missing bikini bottoms. “Found ‘em pretty early on, but I held off on it ‘til you started feeling sorry for me. Good thing too. I got a kiss out of it, after all.”

“You are incorrigible,” you retorted once you got over your initial surprise. You quickly snatched your bottoms back and splashed water at him, trying to ignore the way he continued teasing you all the way back to shore.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Y!Mccree coming home to find his s/o has somehow slipped from her room (maybe he somehow forgot to lock it? Idk) and at first is furious thinking she was hiding after being caught trying to escape, /again/. Until he hears faint whispers coming from the direction of his room. He silently approached the door and slowly opens it. There in the middle of his bed is his shaking little s/o, whispering telling her self mccree will be back soon, then she'll be okay. Mccree's reaction to finding her?
> 
> contains: undead mccree, kidnapping, abuse, stockholm syndrome, alcohol mention, death

A man of McCree’s ability certainly had the right to be proud, but there was a fine line between holding one’s head high and sneering down at the rest of the world through one’s nose. McCree quickly found that line on a particular evening when he was drinking heavily and consequently started feeling larger than life. He got into a stupid brawl at the bar that ended with a deadly firefight, one in which McCree found himself on the wrong side of a smoking gun. His intoxication had impaired him and prevented him from pulling the trigger first, and it cost him dearly.

No ambulance could have gotten him onto the table fast enough to save his life. He died on the way to the hospital. His flesh was weak for yielding to little more than a single bullet but his soul was strong and it couldn’t be put to rest, not when he knew what he’d be leaving behind. He couldn’t pass on to the next life without you.

No family, no one to claim his body. McCree’s corpse slowly wasted away for days at the hospital’s morgue before his spirit rattled his bones and stirred him with enough vigor to reanimate him. It didn’t quite bring him back to life but it jump started his previously dead heart, allowing him to get up and walk among men in his post-mortem state. He caught a glimpse of himself as he passed a reflective surface. The sight that greeted him consisted of washed out skin and hair, and distinctly inhuman appendages stricken by rigor mortis. The only thing about him now that was even remotely indicative of life or liveliness, yet even then not human life, was the vibrant green hue of his eyes. He thought it to be an odd color to represent the sheer ferocity that brought him back from the grave, but it was irrelevant anyway. His main priority was taking care of unfinished business.

McCree shambled out of the hospital, unseen and undisturbed. There were few people out at this time of night but those who were around would pull double takes as he passed. Though he kept his distance from them his ghastly complexion stood out starkly against his comparatively dark surroundings. To avoid drawing any further attention to himself, he raised his serape up over his nose and dipped the brim of his hat just a bit lower over his eyes. He had only one thing in mind and he would be damned to let anyone else interfere.

When he was still alive, he was the most caring and attentive lover you could have ever asked for. He recognized before you did just how much you needed him in your life and acted accordingly, snatching you out of your home and bringing you to live with him. You’d resisted him at first and refused to acknowledge what he could plainly see, which was the fact that you were better off with him than with anyone else. For all your hard-headed stubbornness you were met with similar opposition. McCree had no problem locking you up in a soundproofed and windowless room as long as it meant you were there. This systematic neglect and abuse caused your will to erode far sooner than his so you eventually learned to live with him and not against him. All that hard work and any amount of trust he might have managed to gain towards you would be chucked aside if he returned to an empty home.

Then again, he couldn’t be mad if you escaped in the interest of survival rather than the mere unfaithful act of wanting to get away from him. The longest he left you alone was a day, but these unique circumstances saw you on your own for almost a week. McCree was equal parts furious and anxious. His wrath was reserved for whether or not you actually managed to skip town in his absence, while his anxiety gnawed at him at the thought that you’d been left to fend for yourself all this time.

All these warring emotions came to a head when he finally reached your shared home, kicking the front door down with an inhuman strength he was too preoccupied to really even notice. His only interest at the moment was finding you. He had to quiet his booming footsteps as he combed through the first floor and the basement, searching for you and growing more agitated with every passing minute that was void of you.

Thoughts of how he would hunt you down and re-capture you were already stirring in his mind as he stormed up the stairs. No longer entirely human, he didn’t seem to have to sink as much time into the things he’d needed in his previous life, such as food or sleep. That freed up quite a bit of time that could be put towards making sure he had you on a tighter leash.

A peculiar sound brought him out of his own head. He could just make out a faint sniffle that appeared to be coming from the bedroom. McCree stalked closer and slowly pushed the door open, astonished by what he saw.

You hadn’t left him at all. In fact, when the whole rest of the world seemed to have forgotten him, you remembered. Of course you did. He’d made himself your entire world and it was only natural that you’d be deeply affected by your only companion suddenly disappearing on you. It was the equivalent of the earth falling out of orbit when he left you, and you would have been left to deal with the cold darkness on your own if he hadn’t returned.

Your back was to him as you lay in bed, curled up in a ball with one of his shirts clutched in your arms. Fresh tears slid down your cheeks as you whispered to yourself about how McCree would come home soon and that you just had to be patient. Then it would all be okay.

McCree’s undead heart leapt and swelled with a very human emotion. He reached out to you with cold fingers and gently placed them on the small of your back. You were so warm yet so frail, still trembling with every sob that wracked your small body. Feeling his touch made you slowly turn and look at him and your expression was indescribable.

He took it as a look of wonder and it put a grin on his face beneath his serape, a grotesque sight if it hadn’t been covered. “Sweet pea, it’s me. I’m home.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Hi, I really like ur work my fav being the mcree blackmail in the prof au , can I request mccree trying to convince reader to send nudes :3
> 
> contains: dubcon, manipulation, sexting

Your relationship with McCree was admittedly a bit rushed, but you simply couldn’t help yourself. The cowboy was an absolute charmer and the idea that someone so handsome and charismatic wanted you out of everyone else made you feel like the apple of his eye. It was nerve-wracking and exhilarating all at the same time to rush and fall headfirst into him, but he made it worth your while. Being a notorious outlaw hadn’t hardened him to the point that he couldn’t still pamper you and make you feel like the most important person in his life.

He had a proclivity to touching you, always having a hand on you no matter the situation. If you both passed through a crowded hall together, his hand would easily find the small of your back. When you had some downtime just to sit quietly together, his nimble fingers would dance their way up the nape of your neck and tangle themselves in your hair. It was never annoying or overbearing; just sweet things like his plump lips planting a kiss against your temples. He hooked you with small acts of affection until suddenly he tried for something you weren’t quite ready for yet, and the attempt had you reeling.

A quiet evening in saw you both cuddling and watching a corny rom-com together. McCree always liked to be the big spoon and you were happy to indulge him, nearly falling asleep in his tight, warm embrace. The only thing that kept you awake was his incessant grinding against your backside. Normally you would write it off as nothing more than him adjusting his position to get more comfortable, but then you felt a distinct bulge poking between your cheeks and there was no longer any room to imagine what he was doing. Your face was hot not from arousal but embarrassment, as you peeked over your shoulder and found him staring at you with lust-hazed eyes.

His scruff tickled you as he leaned in to kiss along your jawline. “Mm… feel so nice and soft against me, sugar.”

His voice, full of sleepy grit and that Southern twang that always turned your legs to jelly, only made you shiver and not in a good way. Combined with the dark look in his eyes and the way his grip was becoming far too tight for comfort, it revealed how intent he was on getting what he wanted tonight. You hated to make him stop when he was obviously so eager, but McCree was such a sweet guy. He would understand if you weren’t ready. Gently, you reached back and pushed his hand off of your waist. “Jesse, I… I don’t… think I’m ready yet…”

At that, his expression softened. He kissed your temple like he always did, slow and sweet, and it warmed your heart. But you were unsettled as his lips fell to your jaw, then your neck, and then you felt the hand you’d previously pushed away start creeping underneath the hem of your shirt. “Don’t worry, we’ll take it slow. I’m gonna take good care of you.”

That he kept going with his advances and even became more aggressive just unsettled you further. When his hand cupped your breast and skimmed over your racing heart, you realized you needed to be more firm. You might have been a little too harsh when you shoved off of him and rose to your feet, but you wanted to get your message across. McCree remained on the couch, stunned, and stared up at you with wide eyes as you said, “Jesse, I’m sorry, but I want you to leave. I just… want to be alone tonight.”

He scrambled to sit upright, and you had to turn away because the look of apology in his eyes filled you with guilt. “Sweet pea, I’m sorry. Let me make this right.”

When he stood and tried to wrap his arms around you, you took a defensive step back. He was always good at charming you into seeing things his way but you stood firm on this. “Not tonight. Please… just go.”

McCree looked like he wanted to try one last time to change your mind, but he could see how deeply uncomfortable you’d become. So he nodded without a word and slipped out of your apartment. Mood effectively killed, you turned off the TV and retired to bed for a very tense sleep.

—

This was your first major rut in your relationship together and you could see it being resolved in a number of ways. McCree might be the type to do anything to regain your favor, or he would be more willing to give you your space. Or you would both cave and reach out to one another, or neither of you would get the timing right and your relationship would end as quickly as it came into being. That last resolution was not one you wanted, so you hoped to patch things up with him soon.

Unfortunately the timing couldn’t have been worse. McCree was sent off on a mission right after that incident, meaning you wouldn’t have the opportunity to sit down with each other and talk things out face to face. It just didn’t seem like the sort of conversation to have over text or through a phone call. He would be back soon enough and then the two of you would be able to talk, but even that brief time apart gave your mind enough time to turn towards more pessimistic things. You’d become more dependent on McCree than you thought; he seemed like such a catch and you couldn’t believe yourself for denying him. He was special, anyone with eyes could see that, and yet you couldn’t even give him something as simple as a little bit of affection. You should have been grateful that someone like him wanted someone like you, and then you were struck by the terror that he might realize he could just as easily get anyone else and leave you.

So when you did receive a message from him, you were like a woman possessed as you rushed to check it. It simply read, _“I’m sorry”_.

You didn’t want to talk about it over text, but it still warmed your heart to see that he was thinking of you and he was apologetic for what he’d done. Of course you would want to discuss it later when you were both together, but this was good enough for now. You told him it was okay and wished him good luck on his mission.

After a brief beat, he answered you. _“Thanks babe. Wish I could have seen you before I left. Send me a pic?”_

You couldn’t help but grin to yourself. The idea of him setting your picture as his lock screen or something similarly cheesy just made your heart leap. It took you a moment to find your best angle but you soon sent him a picture of your bright smile.

He took a little longer to respond that time, but when he did it wasn’t what you were expecting. _“You’re gorgeous, sweetheart. But not that kind of pic”._

You had an idea what he meant by that but you hoped you weren’t right. Your heart dropped when he sent you a picture of his own, an image of his large hand palming his cock through his pants. The sight made you swallow hard. Somehow the idea of sending him lewd pictures was even more intimidating than having sex with him. You were still early on in your relationship and you didn’t know where the two of you were headed. What if you had an argument neither of you could recover from? The thought that he would always have these pictures of you sent an unpleasant chill down your spine. It made you uncomfortable, uncomfortable enough to want to deny him a second time, but the part of you that was desperate for his love and affection saw you hiding away in a bathroom stall to give him exactly what he wanted.

With this privacy, you could get all sorts of angles. McCree wanted to see it all. You sent him pictures of your breasts, your soaking wet pussy, even a brief video of you masturbating in the stall. You froze when you heard someone walk in, too petrified to even stop recording, but when you finished after they left and sent him the resulting video, he sent you something that almost had you salivating.

Even after having just finished, his cock still looked so heavy and swollen in his big hands. Semen beaded at the tip and ran smoothly under his shaft, gathering again at the junction of his cock and his hand before dripping to the floor below. The thought that this was what you denied just the night before had you kicking yourself. Part of you still felt like things were going far too quickly, but a newly awakened part of you couldn’t get enough. McCree had charmed himself right into your head and you couldn’t deny him even if you still wanted to.

With trembling fingers, you sent him another picture of your sloppy cunt and begged him to fuck you the moment he came back to base.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Reader takes young sibling out for treat or treating. Rumor has it that going to an the Diner gives free candy and ice cream cones, but the problem is that it’s Deadlock gang favorite hangout. Initially it starts being intimating until young Jesse Mccree enters.
> 
> contains: noncon, humiliation, oral, gunplay

You knew better than to bring your little brother too far along Route 66, but you didn’t want to spoil his Halloween fun. He was insistent on going to the Panorama Diner for some sort of special they had: a free slice of pie for every trick-or-treater under the age of 10. It struck you as an odd thing to advertise considering the people who typically hung around that diner, but your suspicions were no match for your brother’s whining and crying for a big slice of apple pie.

The moment you both stepped in, what you saw chilled you to the bone. Occupying a corner in the bar was a group of big, raucous men who turned to you with a look you didn’t quite like. You tried to suppress the feeling of dread rising up in your gut as you joined your carefree sibling up at the counter. This left your back open to those men and the feeling of their eyes on you in combination with their vague whispers raised goosebumps along your skin.

You didn’t want your unease to affect your brother, so you struck up conversation with him to try to relax. You asked where he wanted to go next and he excitedly told you of his plans as he stuffed his face. He was so animated and lively as he spoke that all your worries were nearly forgotten, at least until the person manning the counter got your attention. He looked just as shady as the men sitting behind you and you wondered if Deadlock ran so deep that even their members worked undercover here. Maybe the diner wasn’t even a diner at all, but a shelter for them to organize all sorts of crimes.

The man wore a wide grin you could only describe as ‘slimy’. “Sweetheart, do me a favor and put some music on, would ya?”

He was holding out some change to you and you slowly took it. Suddenly the crowd of gang members behind you had fallen silent, as if they were watching you with bated breath and anticipation. Still looking at the man behind the counter, you slid out of your seat and approached the jukebox. The feeling of eyes on you had never been more intense and deeply uncomfortable but you tried to keep your cool. You were already being swarmed by a frenzy of sharks and the moment you made your fear known like blood in the water, they would pounce.

An abrupt noise, like a fist colliding with the table and rattling all the silverware that lay on top of it, startled you and made you lose your grip on all the coins. They landed in front of your feet, loud as gunshots as they hit the tiled flooring in an otherwise near-silent diner. Instinctively you started to reach for them, but then the feeling of those lecherous eyes on your backside made your spine stiffen. Your face grew hot with the realization that the man at the counter was, in fact, in cahoots with those troublemakers in the corner. Watching you sit there was apparently too boring for them so they wanted to make you dance.

It was humiliating, but if this was all they wanted from you then you would gladly give it. You couldn’t afford to let the situation escalate to something much worse when your little brother was with you. Your movements were stiff as you bent over to pick up each of the coins. You tried to ignore the way your actions seemed to reanimate the rowdy group in the and even inspire one of them to let out a long and low whistle. They were so loud that it didn’t take much for you to strain your ears and hear what disgusting things they were actually saying about you, about what they wanted to do to you, so you tried to shove it out of your mind by quickly going up to the jukebox and selecting the first song that came up. You turned on your heel to go back to the counter when another abrupt noise caught your attention first.

The sound of the door jingling open had been lost on you in your rush to get to the jukebox, but the presence of a new patron was made known by a shout from one of the gang members. “McCree, you sonuva bitch, get over here!”

You winced at the use of dirty language in front of your little brother but you knew better than to say anything about it. As you started walking back to him you felt a large palm against the small of your back. You whipped your head to the left to see who was touching you and the first thing you noticed was the flashing white of a brilliant smile. A young man with sun-kissed skin and a cowboy hat was passing by you and he’d apparently put his hand on you to keep from bumping into you. Apparently. “‘Scuse me, darling.”

If he weren’t affiliated with those rotten Deadlock members, you almost might have thought this McCree was quite handsome. He parted with a killer smile before sitting amongst the men, immediately being jostled around and getting a whole other string of curse words from his company. You twisted your face and went back to your brother, a little disappointed to see he was nowhere near finishing his pie. You wished you’d insisted on just taking it to go.

But you didn’t want to rush him now in the event it gave him a stomachache. So you sat there and watched over him, doing your best to ignore the way the man behind the counter would occasionally flit in front of you, pointedly staring at you and looking back at the men in the corner with an expression that made you sick. The moment your brother was finished eating, you motioned for him to follow you out.

Of course, it just couldn’t be that easy. The man picked up your brother’s plate and said, “Hold on, partner, you’re a growing boy. Couldn’t have been satisfied with just one slice, right? How about another one, on the house?”

In spite of the way his eyes lit up at the offer, you spoke on your sibling’s behalf and refused for him. “No, thank you. I don’t want him to get a stomachache and we have other places to be.”

The man looked at you with raised brows, suggesting that you were being the unreasonable one here. “No need for modesty tonight, little lady. Where’s your Halloween spirit?”

Deciding you were finished speaking to him, you turned back to your little brother and called out his name. “Come on. Let’s go.”

“Kid, you’ve probably had your fill of the apple pie, but you know what I bet you haven’t tried yet?” McCree’s voice smoothly chimed in as he joined you both up at the counter. You hardened your eyes, annoyed with yourself for having even acknowledged his looks. He was no good just like the rest of them. He seemed to be aware of the way you were looking at him but he focused all of his attention on your sibling for the time being. “The strawberry rhubarb here is the best for miles. You ain’t gonna wanna leave without trying a slice of that.”

He dumped some cash on the counter, which the man eagerly took as he went off to fetch some more sweets for your brother. He was all too happy with the arrangement as he sat down once again, legs kicking and swaying without a care in the world. Meanwhile McCree sauntered over to you, all that faux charm suddenly evaporated and replaced with something much more sinister.

His tone was low, so only you could hear him. “You’re coming with me.”

You swallowed hard. “And if I don’t?”

A flash of a pistol holstered at his side and a jerk of his head back towards his similarly armed friends stopped your defiance in its tracks. “The kid’ll be safe if you go quietly. Can’t promise the same if you make a scene, though.”

You knew you shouldn’t have gone out here tonight. But it was too late to view things in hindsight; right now, you just had to do whatever it took to get you and your brother out of there safely. Stiffly, you told him to wait here and stay put while you stepped out for a moment, and allowed McCree to guide you behind the diner where surely no one would be looking. There, he didn’t even bother hiding the way he ogled you.

“No costume? What a shame.”

“What do you want?” you snapped, only growing more annoyed when he nonchalantly pulled out a cigar and lit up right in your face.

He shrugged. “Haven’t quite decided yet. Maybe I oughta teach you some manners though.”

His gun was drawn faster than you could blink, and suddenly you had a lot less fire in you. That appeared to be the desired effect as he smiled and lazily waved the pistol.

“Yeah. I find that a little bit of danger always humbles people. Especially haughty little girls like you,” he remarked, taking a puff of his cigar and blowing the smoke out towards you. Then, after a tense moment of silence, he commanded, “Get on your knees.”

Begrudgingly, you did as he said. You were eye level with the bulge in his pants as he used his free hand to rid himself of his belt. The sight of his cock disgusted and terrified you; he was big, and the experience was sure to be unpleasant no matter what he decided to do to you.

Suddenly there was no more room for reluctance when he cocked his gun and held it level with your temple. His easy breaths and puffs of his cigar were in direct contrast with the way your heart pounded in your chest. “Suck me off. If you make me come, I’ll let you and the kid go.”

If your brother’s life weren’t on the line, you couldn’t guarantee that you would have surrendered to McCree’s will quite as easily. But the fact of the matter was that you weren’t just looking out for yourself tonight, so you leaned forward and gave him what he wanted. You dragged your tongue along the side of his shaft, feeling every ridge and groove of its prominent veins before closing your lips around the tip. Your tongue continued lapping at the underside of his cock as you pushed yourself further onto him, taking him deeper than you knew you could because you were in such a rush to get this over with.

McCree intended to capitalize on your mistake. Using his free hand, he gripped the back of your head and forced himself even further down your throat. The abrupt motion made your eyes widen and water as your hands went for his thighs to try to push away from him. He was surprisingly strong even with just one hand, still able to hold you in place even through all of your struggling. His hips began punching forward as he fucked your throat savagely, using your mouth as if it were a closed fist. You cried and choked throughout it all but that only seemed to turn him on more.

As much as you wanted him to hurry up and finish already, it was hard to keep still and let him fuck your throat like a toy. Your body’s natural inclination to twitch and gag made the process drag on much longer than it needed to, but when he did finally finish, he added insult to injury by coming on your face. You barely shut your eyes in time as he painted your face with stripes of liquid heat and he let out a pleasured groan that made you sick to your stomach.

Apparently satisfied, he flicked his cigar to the side and re-holstered his gun. He cleaned himself up without offering you anything more than a smirk. “Thanks for that, honey. Hope to see you around here again _real_ soon.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Reader calling McCree daddy as a joke, but when she sees how he’s affected she tries to use it to her advantage 😈
> 
> contains: femdom, masturbation, daddy kink

It had started as a joke, obviously. For you to call him something with such a connotation of power behind it when he was sweating and squealing from your attention alone was meant to humiliate him, not arouse him further. But the way McCree lurched forward and his cock twitched at the sound of your sugary sweet voice cooing out “Daddy” was such a delight to your wicked heart that you couldn’t just let this go.

You petted his sweaty hair back and out of his eyes, revealing his focused brow as he continued thrusting his meaty cock uselessly into his big hands. You delicately traced a path from his temples down to his chin, and you buried your fingertips into the damp scruff that lined his jaw. His lips parted with what was both a gasp for air and a sharp stop at the way your thumb circled and beckoned his mouth open. You could practically sense his heart rate quickening as you leaned in and whispered, “Come on, Daddy, weren’t you going to show me how good you can fuck?”

Hearing it again made his hips stutter before he found a faster pace, filled with a second wind as he began humping into his own hand like a man possessed. Hunched over on his knees and sniffling, he was a far cry from the cool and confident cowboy he tried to present himself as when he first approached you. All that bravado that made him feel like a man for whom women fell for left and right, now shed and exposing to your sharp touch his soft and quivering flesh. Your palm slid down his hairy chest to his belly, briefly squeezing his pudge just so you could hear him choke out in surprise, before stopping on his thick, flexing thigh. You knew it took every ounce of willpower to make himself last this long and he was actually doing a pretty good job, so you thought to push him the tiniest bit to see if you couldn’t get him to fall over the edge completely.

McCree’s breath hitched as you wrapped your arms around him, pressing your body to his so he could feel your stiff nipples even with your clothes serving as a barrier. His jerking hands suddenly stopped; in fact his whole body went stiff, like he was anticipating your next order. You just leaned in close enough for him to feel your lips ghost against his earlobe. “I can tell you’re close. You’re gonna come before I let you fuck me, so why don’t we just play pretend?”

Your legs twisted around his waist and you clung to him, pretending to grind and shake your hips in tune with his sloppy thrusts into his hands. This intimate contact was plenty of torture all on its own, and then you started _moaning_ in his ear, faux panting and whining as if he really were fucking you. You could see the exact moment that deep concentration on his face slipped into complete madness at the fact that you were perfectly simulating exactly what he couldn’t have. Well, it was almost perfect; his callused palms were nowhere near as soft and tight as your sweet pussy, but you were doing such a good job pretending that he could imagine how it would feel to have you spear yourself over and over again on his thick cock.

That was the dominant man McCree wanted to be for you, and it brought you such joy to rip that image away from him. You were the one calling the shots. He wasn’t going to get even a taste of your cunt if he couldn’t prove he had the endurance to be worthy of you. Still shaking your hips in tune with his trembling fists, you looked down and saw the raw, leaking head of his cock staring back up at you. It was truly impressive how much of your treatment he’d managed to withstand thus far but he was starting to lose it now, weak to your cruel and unrelenting teasing. He seemed dangerously close to the brink of coming undone so you decided to send him off with a bang. Your bottom lip slid provocatively between your teeth as you reached down to wrap your hand around his, whimpering, “Daddy…”

He groaned, and you moved his cock before he could spurt out a mess of white all over you. You directed it to land on his own torso, enjoying the sight of him shuddering from finally achieving release and flinching upon feeling that liquid heat spray all over himself. He was too high to care, shamelessly moaning and struggling for breath as he finally achieved the peak he’d been purposely depriving himself of. That shame seemed to return to him once the bliss subsided because he kept his head low, the only indication of his embarrassment being the red that tinged his ears. No longer playing pretend for him, you replaced your previous artificial pleasure with a smile so sweet it was almost a sneer.

“‘Gonna fuck you into the mattress, pumpkin’,” you murmured, quoting the lame come-ons he’d used earlier in the night to try to charm you into his bed. Hearing them now was like a direct blow to his ego as he flinched before ultimately settling under your mean words. “‘Ain’t gonna be able to walk right by the time I’m finished with you’.”

McCree was dead silent, save for the heavy breaths going in and out of his flaring nostrils. He had on a brave face but you did away with that instantly once you grabbed the base of his cock and began jerking him at a pace far too intense for how sensitive he was.

With your free hand, you gave his tear-damp cheek a condescending pat. “Let’s see how fast you can get it back up again.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: I'd love to see some sleazy Mccree playing cowboy with the addition of a new animal on his ranch
> 
> contains: noncon, human cow, humiliation, lactation, pregnancy, breeding kink

Whistling a lazy tune to himself, McCree tipped the brim of his hat just out of his eyes so he could appreciate the shining sun. It was shaping up to be a gorgeous day as he set out to deal with some morning tasks. The animals all had to be fed and their quarters had to be cleaned; it was tiring work, but he’d grown up on a farm and it was good to return to his roots.

He liked to work his way up from the smaller animals’ needs to the needs of his bigger animals. The first ones to see him in the morning were always the sheep and the pigs, and then the goats were milked and fed. Ordinarily he tended to the horses before stepping into the barn, but a particular cry coming from that direction caught his attention and beckoned him inside.

McCree sighed as he pushed the heavy door open, wearing an expression that suggested annoyance at having his morning routine disturbed. In reality, he was all too pleased to enter the barn and find you exactly where he left you the previous night: hunched over with your wrists strapped into a wooden pillory. He’d graciously lowered the device before leaving you in here since forcing a pregnant woman to stay on her feet all night long would have been too inhumane. He was kind enough to let you collapse to your knees when the strain of standing became too much to bear.

You’d slept like that, somehow, but you were wide awake now that your master had returned. You raised your tired eyes up to his figure as he sauntered into the barn, the smug expression on his face inspiring something other than fatigue to light up your features. Well past the stage of fighting back, you only ever looked scared when you saw McCree. And he liked that.

Since you weren’t standing up, he crouched down to your level. Gingerly, he removed his glove from his flesh hand so he could smooth his bare palm over your belly, appreciating how much you’d grown since he first took you in. When he first found you, you were a pitiful little thing. But now you were healthy. Fertile. And he wanted you to appreciate yourself and your body as a gift from Mother Nature herself by celebrating you as his favorite cow.

“Getting big,” he remarked, slowly gliding his palm over your navel and out towards your sides. The motion made your face twist in displeasure. You were probably thinking back to around eight months ago, when your life as cattle first began. It hadn’t been easy since you were just so stubborn and resistant, but he wrestled you face down into his mattress soon enough. He could still remember the feeling of your head clutched tightly by the very palm stroking you now, having shoved your face into the sheets when your screams became too ear-piercing to deal with. He had you in the perfect angle to get balls deep and just let go.

When McCree was finished fondly remembering, his eyes fell to your breasts, swollen and heavy with milk. He had you pumping around the clock, and the constant suction was likely another factor in your breasts going up a few sizes. Not that you’d worn bras or any other clothes since becoming the newest addition to his ranch.

Finally, he turned his attention to the ball gag in your mouth, shiny with saliva and warm with your frantic breaths. He took his sweet time delicately unclipping it and pulling it out of your mouth, watching your juicy lips quiver as your jaw tried to adjust to being free for the first time in hours. While you got yourself back into sorts, he wore a lazy smile and drawled, “You called?”

He thought you’d burst into tears just from trying to articulate a response. You needed a bit longer to compose yourself but you eventually whimpered, “Jesse, please… can I come back inside? Please?”

He stroked his beard pensively, giving the impression that you were really asking him to bend over backwards just to let you back into the house. Truthfully he planned on bringing you in soon enough; he just liked to watch you squirm. “Cows belong in the barn, sweetheart.”

Hearing his seemingly decisive answer did make you sob. It was a brief little outburst, mostly tears, and you warbled out, “This isn’t good for the baby… Please, Jesse…”

McCree shushed you gently, reaching over to smooth his palm down the back of your head. You flinched lightly at his touch before settling and shutting your eyes. He gave you and the milk you’d produced so far one last appraising look before standing suddenly. Satisfied with the amount, he got behind you and said, “All right, I’ll let you in for a little bit. But you gotta prove something to me.”

You jolted at the feeling of his strong hands suddenly seizing your hips and forcing you to stand on your exhausted legs. Even with his support you trembled, threatening to fall back over any second. McCree leaned over to enjoy the view of your heavy stomach and breasts hanging as he bent you over into a humiliating position. He rumbled with delight as his clothed bulge fit snugly into the crevice of your ass, your pussy glistening and oozing with arousal in spite of your insistence that you weren’t enjoying a second of this. One palm fell against the small of your back to brace you while the other went to unbuckle his belt.

“You were real stubborn at first but it’s a start, seeing you fuss over my baby,” he mused, pulling his cock out of his pants and tapping the head against your plump cheeks. “How about it? Prove to me you’re ready to start acting like the mother of my child, and I’ll start treating you like it.”

You went stiff and silent once you felt his cock begin prodding against your slick lips. You were tight as he sank in, but the lubrication made sure the stretch was nothing but pleasure and you couldn’t help but moan when he started to move. His thrusts rocked your body forward the slightest bit and pulled even more noises out of your throat, mostly squeals but you eventually worked yourself back up to words. “If I do… I-I can come back inside?”

“Of course,” McCree nodded as he brought a rough metal palm down against your ass. The initial sting was soothed by the comforting circles he rubbed in immediately afterwards. He took it slow for now, but you knew it was only a matter of time before he picked up the pace and had you begging for mercy. “I need my honey to be a little homemaker. Cook, clean, look after the baby. And I need ya to take care of me.”

When he first took you in, his proposal would have made you sick. Now you were just about ready to leap and accept it. By now you were desperate for any living conditions better than staying in the barn every single day, no matter the cost. The idea of sleeping in a real bed for the first time in months nearly turned your mind to mush, exacerbated when McCree abruptly picked up the pace. You moaned in tune with the sound of skin slapping against skin as you desperately nodded and cried out, “Yes, I’ll do anything! I’ll do anything for you, Jesse!”

His hands fell to your waist, briefly appreciating your swollen stomach before gliding upward towards your breasts. With a swift tug, the pumps were pulled off of your engorged nipples and you let out a cry of both relief and pain. You were free from your previous restraints only to be subject to new torture, McCree’s deft fingers squeezing and pulling in an attempt to draw more milk out of you. You’d been pumping all night and surely thought you had nothing left to give, but you were wrong.

Your pleasure came to a head with a well-timed pound against your raw cervix and a particularly rough grope at your swollen breasts. You became weak in the knees as arousal leaked from your cunt and your nipples in an embarrassing display of orgasm-induced lactation. As you came down from your high, you were vaguely aware of McCree pumping you full of his release in response to your shameless display. When the humiliation set in you were disgusted with yourself, but McCree was delighted.

His warm body curled over yours, and he leaned in close enough that you could see the way he licked his lips and leered at you from your peripheral vision. “God _damn_ , look at you. You were made to have my baby.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: can you please do one where reader is famous or successful or an heiress and needs a bodyguard, so mccree is hired as her bodyguard? please? i really liked your lifeguard mccree fic. thank you.
> 
> contains: noncon, femdom, facesitting, violence, face fucking

McCree couldn’t stand girls like you. Rich bitches who were only wealthy because of their daddies, so spoiled they’ve never had to lift a finger their entire lives. You were an adult but you might as well have still been a child with how much of a brat you were. Daddy’s little princess who got whatever she wanted just because she asked for it.

One of those things you received was a bodyguard, and that was where McCree came in. You hadn’t quite asked for him; it was more like your father knew how haughty you were and how much trouble you’d be in if the wrong kinds of people got their hands on you. All McCree had to do was escort you around and keep you safe, watching out for any suspicious activity nearby. But all that time spent with you eventually degraded his role from bodyguard to servant. As much as he resented you, he couldn’t tell you off or call you out on any of it. Your father was paying him a pretty penny in exchange for his services and he really needed the money.

But then you somehow found a way to reduce him to something even lower than a servant.

The first time you called him into your luxurious bedroom, he’d been uncomfortable. He hesitated to call you this since he knew about the nasty personality that existed within, but he truly thought you were gorgeous. Surely you had no shortage of partners to mess around with, yet here you were, scantily dressed and sitting provocatively in the center of your plush bed. There was no room for him to think even for a second that you weren’t coming onto him.

Your command had him dumbfounded. “Get on your knees. I wanna watch you masturbate.”

That was how McCree quickly learned that you weren’t interested in having him fuck you, but rather, you wanted him subservient to you in the most primal way. He’d tried to refuse you, to walk away from the situation, but you reminded him how badly he needed your father’s money just to survive. You were right, and having to acknowledge that put a deep scowl on his face. It went away soon enough as he slid down to the floor, pulling his cock out of his pants and forcing it to stand tall even through the humiliation of your cruel stare.

Even worse than being a spoiled brat, you were a damn sadist. And you knew you could get away with it because of the awful position you had McCree in, so you just kept pushing him.

For a while, all you wanted was for him to present himself to you in the most embarrassing way and try to get off. But once you tired of that, you decided to try playing with him in all kinds of ways. Sometimes you would intervene and ruin his orgasm just so you could watch that childish frustration spill into his rugged features. Other times you wouldn’t let him get off at all; instead he would be forced to lie down beneath you so you could sit on his face, idly playing with your phone or watching something on TV while he dutifully ate you out. It was when you would reach forward to ghost your fingers over the bulge in his pants, laugh, and then neglect him for the rest of his time with you that really had him straining. McCree had patience, but he was no angel. You were dancing around the line of his restraint and he couldn’t guarantee your safety if you dared to cross it.

He couldn’t just put up with your treatment without some sort of an outlet. On the rare occasions he found himself away from you, he hated that you were still on his mind. But at least there, he could think of you in ways he couldn’t act on in reality. It was there that he could make you decent instead of the awful bitch you really were.

McCree fantasized about forcing you to your knees the same way you had the first time you called on him. Where you were smaller than him and too delicate to put him down with anything other than words, he was a big, strong man. He could manhandle you and wrestle you to the floor without much effort, but he wouldn’t hold back any of his strength just because you deserved to be thrown around like a ragdoll. He’d have barely touched you and you’d already be crying, the sight of your flushed, teary face sending all the blood in his body down to his swelling erection.

He would humiliate you, smearing your tears and running makeup all over your cheeks with the underside of his dick. Then, once you looked sufficiently a mess, he’d pinch your nose to force your mouth open so he could go buck wild. Prissy little sadist you were, you’d probably never had such a big cock slip past those pretty pink lips. McCree would be honored to be your first and he would treat you to an experience you’d never forget, strong hands gripping either side of your head so he could fuck you like you were just a human fleshlight. You’d choke and gag and every once in a while your teeth would scrape at his shaft, but your minor screw-ups just presented to him the opportunity to threaten you some more. You had a lot of humiliation to make up for, after all, and he wanted to see you do so by instilling fear within you.

He would facefuck you until you physically couldn’t take anymore, your manicured hands desperately slapping against his thighs for reprieve. He would pull out but wouldn’t let you go, holding you in place so he could better observe the way you cried. Imagining your face, covered in tears, snot, and saliva, was one of his favorite things to do when he found himself idly rubbing one out. But there was nothing idle about the way he moved in his fantasy. Every action was decisive, including the way he grabbed you by your hair and threw you down against your own mattress. He could never decide what position he liked you in best, so it always changed the more he thought about it.

On the one hand, he didn’t want to give you the dignity of being fucked in any position other than doggy style. But on the other, he wanted to see the look on your face when his fat cock sank into your virgin pussy, and for you to watch that slimy smirk slide across his features once he finally got what he wanted after being deprived of it for so long. He was so fixated on watching you cry that the latter position was what he went with for now, imagining how he’d dig his nails into your skin hard enough to make you bleed. His metal hand would be laced in your hair and pulling the strands off their roots, no doubt contributing to the tears that wouldn’t stop falling from your wide, scared eyes. All the while he’d be pounding into you like a demon. On the days you really pissed him off, he liked to imagine a bit of blood squirting out of your pussy with each harsh thrust.

Where he fantasized about finishing also depended on his mood. Whether he sheathed himself within you completely and allowed your insides to milk him dry or he dropped his load all over your chest and face, you were always miserable and spent. It was refreshing to think of you being put in your place for once and it was all McCree could do to make this humiliating job even slightly bearable.

Then his daydream came crashing down around him when you appeared. No longer the battered and sniveling bitch from his fantasies, you were perfectly done up and infuriatingly smug as you stood tall before him. “Jesse, I need you to do something for me.”

Resigned, he dragged himself to his feet and let you do with him as you pleased. He couldn’t oppose you or voice any objections at all. Whatever you threw at him, he just had to grin and bear it and grit out, “Yes, Princess.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Can we get s/o cockwarming any male of your choice (whether willing or or forced is up to you)? I just want s/o sitting/squirming on the D for long periods trying to get work done/reading/etc. and every once in a while gets fucked by a happy yandere  
> Hi! This isnt Yandere or anything but i desperately need some cute giggly sex between mcree and a fem reader. My favorite fic of yours is the fem dom slasher 76. thank you!!!!

You could have sworn Jesse was a dog in heat with the way he was throwing himself at you. It was normal for him to cuddle up against you if ever he found you idling on the couch, but that was more in the realm of throwing a thick hairy arm over your shoulder or resting his head on your lap. Lately he’d been much more aggressive, never bordering creepy but definitely annoying. If ever he happened upon you napping, he’d wrap his arms and legs around you like an overly affectionate sloth and fall asleep squeezing the life out of you. Or instead of simply using your lap as a pillow, he’d try to part your thighs and bury his face there.

Nothing remarkable had happened recently that could have affected his behavior, so you supposed he just craved the contact. But whenever he approached you he always caught you in the middle of an activity in which you didn’t wish to be disturbed. In response you’d unconsciously begun giving him the cold shoulder until you both had some downtime, at which point you decided your cowboy needed some loving.

It was you who found him idly lying on the couch this time, and you moved to lie down next to him. Jesse started sitting up to offer you more space but you quietly pushed him back down, content with wedging yourself against him so he could be your big spoon. He was happy to oblige but he didn’t wrap his arms and legs around you right away since that was what annoyed you last time. It took some coaxing, but you eventually got him to at least put his arm over your chest. Just like that, you lay together and watched whatever movie had been playing before you’d wandered over.

Jesse had apparently been in and out of sleep when you joined him, as he didn’t seem up for talking. You, too, were fine with the comfortable silence, simply enjoying his warmth and presence. But the way he would occasionally shift and grind up against your backside did not go unnoticed by you. You could tell he was trying to relax since his previously unruly behavior had gotten him in the doghouse, but he just couldn’t help himself. Admittedly, you felt bad for denying him back then. All he’d wanted was to be near you.

So you made up for it now by letting him enjoy himself and even encouraging him. The sound of his breath hitching when you ground back against him was music to his ears. Slowly, you both found a rhythm in which you worked back and forth against one another, his erection clearly outlined by the loose material of his sweats and trying desperately to wedge itself between your plump cheeks. But your own clothes were a force to contest with, though not for long as you wiggled yourself out of them.

Jesse hummed softly at the sight of your bare ass and grunted once you reached under the waistband of his pants, jerking him briefly before exposing him. You lifted your leg just enough to slip his cock between your thighs, moving back and forth a bit so he could feel your sweet warmth engulf him. When precum dribbled out of his fat tip and leaked over your thigh onto the couch cushion, you decided to go further. You were so wet he easily slipped into you, and you both moaned simultaneously at the delicious stretch and squeeze.

But after that, neither of you moved much beyond shifting to get into more comfortable positions. You both desired one another but in more of a quiet way, like you just wanted loving skinship rather than passionate love-making. You sighed and sank further against him, abruptly tightening around his dick just so you could feel his heart rate pick up against your back. Precum leaked into you without end, contributing to the lewd wet noises your pussy made whenever you repositioned your legs.

Jesse lowered his lips to the back of your neck and you giggled at the feeling of his scruff tickling your sensitive skin. The sound of your laughter put a smile on his face and made him laugh himself, and you both continued quietly rocking against the other throughout the rest of the movie. Currently you didn’t need him to pound into you like a wild beast, nor did he need you to ride him like a cowgirl. For now it was enough just to be near each other.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: how about mccree fantasizing over his crush being pregnant with his kids?
> 
> contains: noncon

Being sheriff isn’t easy, but someone’s gotta do it, and McCree doesn’t think there’s any man who’s quite up to the task like he is. He has a high opinion of himself; rightfully so, as the town hasn’t seen a lower crime rate since he took on the job. On top of being efficient, he’s charismatic and handsome, and you’d be hard pressed to find a single person in town who didn’t like him. Overall, everyone was satisfied with him in charge.

As such, Sheriff McCree would think he’s deserving of a partner on the same level as him. Of all the women in town, he’s only got eyes for you. Everything about you is absolutely flawless, and the only way he can think to improve you is by pumping you full of his seed.

He’s always wanted a big family to make up for the loneliness and neglect he suffered as a child. He wanted to be a good father and role model for his children, to be for them what he should have had when he himself was growing up. When he first pitched the idea to you, just the thought of having one child put a grimace on your face. Delicately, you’d explained to him that you’re still young and not too keen on settling down to raise a family just yet.

That rose question marks in his mind. You weren’t ready to settle down? That alone implied you weren’t sure if you were ready to commit to just him, and the idea that you would run off and find someone else made his blood boil. McCree had already decided that you were the perfect woman for him. How could you even insinuate that there might be someone out there more deserving of having you? As much as he wanted to correct you, you would always get upset when he tried to have this talk with you, and he hated doing anything to upset the happy married life shared between you both.

So he simply decided for you. One morning, you woke up tied down to the bed with McCree standing over you, an indescribable expression on his face. Already feeling panic rise up within you, you demanded to know what was going on, and he did little more than shift his cigar from side to side in his mouth. Finally, when he snuffed it in a nearby ash tray, he ripped the blanket from the bed and revealed to you that you were completely bare before him. All of this in combination with the predatory manner in which he began crawling over you sent you spiraling into a hysterical realization.

“Pumpkin,” McCree drawled low in your ear, and his hand clapped over your mouth before you could even think to scream. “I think it’s about time we start our own family.”


End file.
